Quiet sobs shake Dove’s petite body, and if I had a heart, the sight would fucking break it. But there’s a growing need somewhere deep inside of that hollowed-out space, a need bigger than me and what I know to be right.
I crouch in front of her, my thumb pressing against the soft skin under her left eye. A teardrop slides down and covers it, and the next thing I know I’m tasting her pain on my tongue: salty, and bitter, and smooth like early morning dew. I groan—fuckinggroan—as she spreads throughout my body like wildfire, breaking into every cell that keeps me alive.
Fucking hell.
I comfort her as best I can and when I realize I can’t be this close to her anymore, I stand up and turn my face to the street, arguing with myself about leaving. I did what I came here to do. I should go. I should let her get on with her life and find a man who deserves her. But then she whimpers, and my eyes seek her again. Like a wounded little bird needing food and shelter, she sits there, her throat choking on sobs and the air she’s trying to pull back into her lungs. And all I want to do is lock her in a cage, feed her my cum, and make her mine.
I extend my hand forward, seeing if she even wants to be picked up. But surprise catches me off guard when I feel the warmth of her skin wrapped around mine. I pull her in, and she lets me, sobbing in the safe space I created for her against my chest. Her hair, just like the rest of her, feels like silk against my scarred palms. And the scent? This woman smells like sugared strawberries and summer rain, and I never want to forget what that feels like. In fact, I don’t think I can.
“Rowan,” she whispers, and my body hums at the way my name rolls off her sweet tongue. “It’s okay if you want to kiss me.”
It’s okay if I want to kiss her.
The fucking devil couldn’t tempt me more if he wanted to.
But in this moment it takes everything in me to realize the truth of what this is… that Dove’s grief looks different from mine. That she wants this—needsthis—because not experiencing it means having to deal with the harsh reality weighing down on her. She thinks my grip will protect her, and that my voice will soothe away her demons. I want to give that to her more than anything. But I can’t. Iwon’t. Cole would never forgive me if he knew the kinds of thoughts that are going through my head. The kinds of things I’d do to his little sister if given the chance.
“You’re grieving. It wouldn’t be right,” I tell her, my body going tense at the conflict within me.
Silence passes between us, three breaths deep. I hold her close and press my lips against her forehead as my fingers dig into her wavy hair, pulling it back. Her body sags against mine, and she looks confused as I say—
“Take care of yourself, Dove Finnegan.”
I can still feel her on my skin when I reach my car. The image of her crying is now etched into my mind, right next to the one of Cole’s lifeless body in that fucking box.
The best thing for both of us would be to let her go. To forget this day ever happened and blow off steam the way I always do. But I made a vow to her brother. I told him I’d look after his family, and that’s exactly what I’m about to do. Dove Finnegan might never know the monster lurking in the shadows of her life… but that monster will sure as fuck know her.
two
Rowan
Five years ago
“Leave us,” Sebastian Delaney, the president, says as he loosens his tie.
I raise a questioning brow in response, but otherwise keep my expression neutral as I’m forced to snap out of my thoughts. It’s been a few weeks since giving Dove the news, and I can’t fucking stop thinking about her. The cameras I placed around her family’s house didn’t help either. I keep wanting to check them over and over to make sure she’s safe and not a target for the EFW... but also just to see her. To know her.
The need is fucking irritating, like an itch I can’t reach to scratch. All the years of training in the military should be able to keep my thoughts and impulses under control. But when it comes to her, my mind isn’t cooperating.
“Sir?” Secretary David Foster asks, visibly confused.
It’s not every day that I’m called into the White House, especially since Maddox isn’t president yet. Not only that, but to be summoned here together with the Secretary of Defense is unusual in its own right.
“You heard me,” the president tells him. “Get out. Rowan, you stay.”
A pause, and then, “Sir, this is a very delicate situation. You can’t possibly consider handing it over to—” Secretary Foster stops mid-sentence, and I almost smile at the gesture. If he doesn’t have the balls to insult me, he most certainly shouldn’t be advising the president on anything. Ever. “We’re in the middle of a full-fledged war. A special ops commander isn’t trained for this sort of—”
“And you are?” Sebastian asks, approaching him. “Look.” He sighs. “You’ve been helpful so far, but you’ve got to admit this is way beyond your skill set. Besides, if it weren’t for Rowan recognizing the trap, the troops you sent out last night would be dead.Dead, Secretary. All two hundred of them. Do you understand?”
My eyes flash in Sebastian’s direction when he says that. I didn’t think he’d go with my suggestion on last night’s attack. All our previous interactions prove he doesn’t exactly like me very much. Not that I care too much for him, either.
“I shouldn’t have to remind you we lost a quarter of the Ridge last month. We’ve been making no progress of our own,” Sebastian continues. “People are rioting. The country is scared, and we’re running out of goddamn time here—”
“Sir, if I may—” Secretary Foster cuts him off.
My lips tilt upward at this point, and silence fills the Oval Office, announcing his demise. He stutters, looking between the president and me, defeat coiling around his tongue.
It’s pretty clear that despite our differences, the president has decided to put me in charge of the military operations for the war. I kind of expected to be called in at some point, but not now. And to be completely honest, I wouldn’t give a fuck about involving myself in this shitshow if it weren’t for two thingsand two things only: one, making sure Cole’s death wasn’t for nothing, and two, getting a favor from the president himself.
